


Cowboys and Indians

by leonidaslion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonidaslion/pseuds/leonidaslion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Prompt:</b> cowboys/girls</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cowboys and Indians

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saberivojo](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=saberivojo).



In the afternoon westerns that they showed on TV, the Indians were always the bad guys, but Dean figured that they were badass enough to make up for it. Besides, he was sick of being a cowboy, and Indians got those nifty bow and arrows. He shifted his grip on the ones in his hands as he moved from tree trunk to tree trunk. He was careful to place his entire foot on the ground while he moved, just like Dad said the real Indians had when sneaking up on their prey.

There was a giggle off to his left, and then a shushing sound, and Dean grinned as he altered his path. The sun was high—almost directly overhead—and if this had been one of those western movies, then he and the cowboy would be out under the desert sun, squaring off in a dusty town square. In real life, it was better—safer—to come at your enemy from hiding.

Edging closer, he caught sight of the large, tan hat that gave away the cowboy’s position behind a thick clump of bushes. _Gotcha,_ he thought triumphantly, and angled around the bushes so that he could get a clear shot off. There was another giggle from the hat’s vicinity and Dean’s heart beat quicker. He was actually going to win this time! He _knew_ he’d be able to if he could just be the Indian for once.

Pulling his arm back to his ear, he took a deep breath and then stepped out from the concealing brush. A war whoop exploded from his lungs as he let loose and an instant later, Sammy was blinking at him in confusion with a suction cup arrow stuck to his chest. The hat was perched on a bush above him, but there was no sign of the cowboy, which meant that …

A soft swishing sound alerted him to the attack too late and within seconds there was another suction cup stuck to Dean’s forehead. He scowled as the cowboy stepped out from behind a nearby tree, twirling a toy gun around one finger and smiling widely.

“No fair,” Dean protested, detaching the suction cup from his head. “You cheated. Cowboy’s always supposed to wear the hat.”

John grabbed the hat off the bush and dropped it onto Sammy’s head. Sammy giggled again, wrapping his pudgy hands around the brim, and promptly fell over.

“That’d be today’s lesson, Dean,” John said, heading over to Dean and ruffling his hair. “You can’t trust your enemy to stick to the rules.”

“Why not?” Dean demanded. “That’s what they’re for, right? I always have to go by the rules, so why shouldn’t they?”

John hunkered down so that he was at eye level and put his hands on Dean’s shoulders. The smile slipped from his face, leaving his dark eyes serious.

“Now, you listen close, buddy. When we’re in the car, or at home, you _do_ need to follow the rules, but when you’re hunting, there isn’t any rule except rule number one. You remember what that is?”

“Do what you say and don't get hurt,” Dean said promptly. “But, Dad, if the cowboy doesn’t wear the hat, how am I supposed to know who he is?”

John’s face twisted with an emotion Dean couldn’t decipher, and he dropped their foreheads together. “I wish to God I had an answer for you, Dean,” he whispered. “I wish to God I knew.”


End file.
